#'bilbo's motivations make no sense; why would he leave and then just think of home the whole time?' was one review i saw

[goatsorcery]

i know so much writing advice boils down to "what some people hate other people will love and vice versa" but honestly thats it though; like going on goodreads or other similar sites and reading one-star reviews for your favorite books/popular books is so reassuring because you will find that the things that made people hate it are often the things that made you love it!

[em-dash-press]

I’ve had a story idea for a while but i just can’t seem to write the beginning properly and I that because of this I am rushing the story. Do you have any tips on how to write a beginning that sets things up while also capturing the audience?

Hey! This is something I’ve definitely struggled with and I know other writers have too. The start of any story can be so intimidating, so let’s break down a few ways to approach this part of your writing process.

First, is your story a short story or something longer, like a novella or novel?

Tips for Starting a Short Story

Most shorter works of fiction have to move fast. Your reader needs an instant hook to get swept up by your plot/characters. You can create that hook with techniques like:

Starting with action/the unexpected [Example intro: When I jumped off that speeding train, I crashed right into my soulmate.]

Starting with dialogue [Example intro: “Taylor? Why are you throwing rocks at my window?”]

Introducing your character’s voice [Example intro: I’m basically the best beekeeper on the West Coast, unless you ask my nemesis—my cousin, Harold.]

Starting with the unknown [Example intro: The cursed baby shoe inside the wall of my parent’s bedroom was a secret our house held onto for years. Then it decided to introduce itself.]

Starting with a memory [Example intro: I never realized that Saturday afternoons at the pond would be my favorite moments with my brother. Not until after he disappeared.]

These examples would work in both long-form and short stories, but they’re better for short stories because they’re so immersive. Novels would need more information packed into the first chapter, which brings me to . . .

Tips for Starting a Novel/Novella

Readers still want hooks at the start of a novel, but they really need a great first chapter to signal that your book is worth their time. A fast-paced hook won’t do much if the next ten pages don’t ground them in your fictional world.

Think about which of the above types of intros you’d like to use and compare them with more common novel intros, like:

The gradual slope: your first chapter would begin with a peaceful, mundane situation that sets the scene for where your protagonist begins their journey. The inciting incident would happen later or at the end of that initial chapter. [Think about The Hobbit. It starts by describing Bilbo’s home to emphasize how comfortable and content he is. It allows for contradiction when he’s presented with his hero’s journey and doesn’t want to leave home.]

The big leap: your first chapter would start in the middle of an action-packed scene. Although it starts with a prologue, The Host begins with Fords Deep Waters putting a soul into a body as an example for students. The reader doesn’t know anything about the world at that point, so it’s a major leap that’s intended to make you wonder what is going on and read more.

To avoid this problem, make sure your opening chapters should always help the reader answer:

Who is the main character?

What is your protagonist doing/what will they need to do?

Where are they?

When does your story occur?

Why is your plot happening? (What’s your character’s motivation? What are the stakes?)

After getting your first chapter down, re-read it and start revising!

Sometimes first chapters feel a little clunky on a second read-through. They can also sound like a data dump if you’re focused on getting all the necessary information in there. 

While you’re revising, double-check that your reader has everything they need to answer the above questions. Then address things like—do you use your five senses to set the scene? Do your characters seem dynamic (through their stakes/risks/desires)?

When the chapter ends, it should have some kind of paragraph or line that piques the reader’s interest. You might introduce your protagonist’s first conflict, have them make a choice that goes wrong, or meet someone who’s vital to their development. It depends on what you want to write.

The best tip I can give you is to never be afraid of editing and revising. None of my books kept their first chapters! Some have very edited versions of my first draft and others have wildly different starting points because other scenes made more sense as I wrote the rest of the story.

Everyone goes through rewrites. Everyone polishes their work. Especially for first chapters or the start of a story! Every edit gets you closer to an introduction that feels just right.

Thanks for asking, and best of luck with your writing! 💛

[ijustwant2write]

You'll Outlive Her-Thorin Oakenshield x Reader x Company

(GIF credit to @riepu10​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘hiii. a thorin x the company x fem!reader (21 years old). the reader tells the company about humans’ short life span (75-85 years old) and they freak out telling her they’re going to protect her and all that. very fluffy please & thank you!!’

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (platonic), Bilbo Baggins x Reader (platonic), all of the company x Reader (platonic), Gandalf x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of death, but a majority is fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) could feel how sore her body was as the company continued riding, having done so for a whole day already. They had travelled far today, making good process. She had never imagined herself on a quest such as this, especially with dwarves. Although she was a human, (Y/N) had been surprisingly welcomed to the company, but not without slight disdain from Thorin; she could understand his feelings, she was not of their kind, she didn’t know what it was like to lose a home like that. Gandalf had recruited her (and she was a vast contrast to Bilbo) because of her skills in fighting, and the fact that her family had been nomads helped with journeys such as this.

The dwarves were kind to her. There had been no prejudice against her being a woman, and she had learnt that a lot of their women were fierce like her, it was a dwarfish custom. It was easy to joke with them, there had been banter amongst the group about Bilbo when he joined, and once he loosened up, he could be fun at times too. Naturally, the other thing that separated (Y/N) from the company (excluding Gandalf), was her height. (Y/N) wasn’t a tall girl per say, but the men were all smaller than her, giving (Y/N) the upper hand when they started teasing her about something; it always shut them up.

“I spy with my little eye...” Ori called out, followed by a round of groans from everyone else.

“Do you not tire of this game?” Bofur moaned.

“There’s nothing else to do!”

“We’re on a quest lad, what did you think we would be doing?”

“Go on, Ori,” (Y/N) smirked, knowing that it would annoy everyone else,“what do you see?”

“OK, I spy with my little eye, something beginning with...G!”

“Is it grass?”

When he didn’t reply, she looked back over my shoulder, giggling when she saw his head hanging low.“Don’t worry Ori, there’s not a lot to spot out here.”

Ori smiled slightly, mesmerised by (Y/N)’s own smile before she faced the front again. Dori noticed his brother’s blushing cheeks, leaning over as much as he could whilst staying on his pony.

“Stop that! She’s a human, you’re a dwarf.” he simply said.

“I wasn’t thinking of anything!” Ori defended himself.

The sounds around them were peaceful, it brought tranquility to their minds. They were riding through a forest, the gentle wind making the leaves above them rustle, the occasional chirping of birds joined, and the horses hooves were muffled against the worn out path they were riding on. Despite the company being relatively calm, (Y/N) noticed Bilbo’s expression, and how silent he had been. 

“Are you alright, Bilbo?” (Y/N) asked, her voice quieter.

“Hm?” he had been broken out of a trance.“Oh, um, yes, yes, um, I’m fine.”

She sadly smiled at him.“You’re missing home, aren’t you?”

He sighed.“A little. It would have been the easy choice to stay at home and carry on doing the same thing everyday. But something made me choose to accompany Thorin on his quest. And I hope I made the right choice.”

“You’ll figure that out for yourself, soon enough.”

“We need to find somewhere to sleep for the night.” Thorin announced.“Everyone be on the lookout for a good place to shelter.”

Once they had found a safe enough place to stay, the company began dismounting their ponies/horses, and setting up their camp. Food was being prepared, makeshift beds were being made, and those sent out to patrol the area had already left. They were situated in a tiny clearing in the woods, with enough trees and bushes to conceal them. The fire was lit, and everyone instinctively huddled closer, feeling the chill that the evening brought as the sun set. 

(Y/N) thanked Nori as he handed her a bowl of stew, and she sat on her bed, pulling a blanket tighter around her. The bowl provided more heat to her cold hands, the smell of food causing her stomach to rumble loudly. As she ate, she glanced around, smiling at the sight. These men were so determined to complete this quest, it made her feel motivated to help them. She thought back to one of the first nights they all had together, when Balin had recited the story of how the leader of the company became Thorin Oakenshield. (Y/N) had never met someone with a royal background, but had heard that they were snobs, and turned up their nose at anyone they deemed less than them. Despite Thorin’s first impression, (Y/N) had a feeling it wasn’t him. For someone to be like that, they would have had to have gone through something traumatic; she knew his story now, and it made him seem stronger, powerful, a true leader.

“Where’s Thorin?” (Y/N) asked Bombur who was sat beside her.

He shrugged before diving into his bowl. She scoffed a laugh, shaking her head as she finished off her own meal. Her eyes scanned around the camp, subconsciously counting the dwarves, making sure they were all there. Fili and Kili had just come back from patrol, almost racing towards the food as they reported that they hadn’t seen anything. (Y/N) almost wanted to ask if they knew where Thorin was, but didn’t.

“You know what,” Bofur said, getting everyone’s attention,“we still don’t know that much about you (Y/N).”

“Well, I suppose I have heard everything I can about all of you. What is it that you wish to know?”

“Where were you born? What were you like growing up? Why did you like to fight?”

(Y/N) laughed as he continued asking questions.“You know, come to think of it, I’ve lived a pretty simple life up until now.”

“A simple life? Really?” Balin said.

“Yes. I actually don’t know where I was born. My family never stayed in one place, they were completely free spirits, and when mother gave birth to me, we were travelling in the back of a caravan, with my father helping her, and my auntie and uncle riding up front. So they never really knew where we were when I was born."

There were a few chuckles from the group. She grinned and continued.

"All my family taught me how to fight, each of them with a specific skill. They said it was to keep me safe, that if we all knew how to fight, we could defend each other. Not that anything actually happened."

"Have you ever been in a fight?" Kili asked.

"Yes, a few times, but I was never the one to start them. I was always looking out for someone."

"That seems very like you lass." Bofur added.

"Although I was travelling, I haven't seen a lot in my life. We circled sometimes, meeting up with old friends. But as I myself grew older, I noticed how my parents didn't want to move as much. They rested more frequently. And I realised that I was the one in my prime, I was the one who had to be the leader. And I guess...I guess when I became the only one left of my family, I seeked new adventures. Something that would make them proud."

"How old were they? When they died?" Bilbo was careful how he said it.

"Hm, they all must have been in their eighties. I think father reached ninety-four actually!"

Everyone's eyes were wide, mouths agape as they stared at her. She felt uncomfortable with the attention, wondering why they all looked so shocked.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You poor thing." Nori breathed out.

"Th-thank you?"

"Losing your parents at such a young age...If you don't mind me asking, was it natural or...?" Dori said.

"Yes, it was natural. They were healthy for the most age. Old age caught up to them. Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

"My dear friends," Gandalf spoke up, smoking from his pipe,"you must understand that unfortunately humans have a much shorter lifespan that dwarves do."

"So, how old do you live to?" Fili asked.

(Y/N) thought for a moment."Usually eighty to ninety years old if you're healthy. I have heard of some people miraculously living to the age of one hundred!"

The company shared a concerned look with each other, worrying (Y/N). Why was this such a big deal?

"Do you know how long dwarves live for?" Thorin suddenly appeared, making everyone whip their heads towards him.

(Y/N) nodded."You can live up to two hundred and fifty years old, sometimes older."

"Doesn't that frighten you?" Ori asked.

"Well, no. It's just how life works. I suppose it would be great to live for that long, but at the same time, you age the same as I, though in different ways...that made more sense in my head." she quickly laughed, though no one else joined.

"And...how old are you now?" Kili's voice was quieter.

"I'm twenty-one."

"Twnety one?!" multiple people exclaimed, fussing over how young (Y/N) was.

Her head was running wild, trying to take everything in. They were all asking her so many questions, some she could not answer. She spotted Bilbo attempting to calm them down, but he was too quiet.

"Let me put this into perspective, for all of you!" Gandalf snapped, causing silence."Dwarves are thought to reach maturity at the age of forty, for humans that is twenty. They live the same lives as many of us, just in a shorter time, which is why they always seem to be in a rush with everything."

"You need to be more careful lass." Dwalin announced.

"Yes, we really should be taking better care of you." Bofur agreed.

"I'll protect you (Y/N), I'm not scared!" Ori puffed out his chest.

This was followed by everyone's proclaimations of chivalry, all protesting over what they could do to make her feel safer. Instead of being offended or made to feel weak, she felt loved. She hadn't had many friends since her family died, and had been apprehensive to join a group of strangers. All of this was just too much, it was an emotional moment.

"You don't all have to worry about me. You know I can handle things myself." (Y/N) gushed.

"Doesn't mean you have to." Thorin said, though there was no warm expression on his face."Don't think you have to prove yourself and get you or someone else killed."

He slumped off after he spoke, leaving the company in silence once again. The conversation slowly built back up, the attention still on (Y/N), but Bilbo saw how she was getting upset. Gandalf smiled to himself as he watched the hobbit steer the topic of conversation away from her, glad to have someone with a level head.

Elsewhere, Thorin was leaning against a tree, his hands on his sword as a precaution. He heard footsteps, slow and heavy ones, and he only had to peak his head around the tree to spot Balin. The older dwarf sadly smiled, placing a hand on a tree to steady himself.

"You know, it's not wise to storm off by yourself." Balin half joked.

"I did not storm off."

"I think others might say different Thorin."

Thorin didn't reply.

"They might see it as your usual self. But I can see that look in your eye."

"And what look would that be?"

"You will deny it as soon as I speak it."

"I promise, I shall listen."

Balin raised an eyebrow at him, sighing before he spoke."You have grown fond of the girl. She's a fighter, she's kind and she's smart; (Y/N) didn't come on this quest for her own glory, she came to help us return home."

Thorin did stay silent, because he knew that Balin was right.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you can't let yourself fall for her. For one, you cannot be distracted whilst on this quest, two, she is a human and three...well, being a dwarf, you'll easily outlive her. We all will unfortunately."

"I won't."

"What?"

"I won't fall for her. I haven't been falling for her in the first place."

Balin knew this was the response he would receive. Even though Thorin was denying it, Balin could tell that in his head, he was still thinking about her. And that was a problem.

"You've been through enough pain Thorin. Don't bring more onto yourself." Balin left him with that, making his way back to the camp.

Although Thorin had removed himself from the camp to also remove a certain girl from his thoughts. They weren't sexual, or anything to do with love. He cared for her like a younger sister. Of course, he had been taken back by his beauty (dwarvish women could almost be mistaken for the men), but that wasn't important to him at the time. What Balin said about her was true. She was a selfless human, which was more than he could say about the rest of her kind. He hadn't known how short their lives were, and he wondered why she had chosen to live hers like this, with them. She could be exploring new places by herself, with no one to stop her. Perhaps she would meet another traveller on the way and fall in love, start her own family and move around the world just as her parents did. Though he wouldn't gain any answers like this, he wanted to ensure that she survived this journey, that she was there forbthe glory. She deserved as much as the dwarves this, and with that thought, he solemnly sweared to keep her alive.

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

Kings & Queens

Chapter 2: Elves and Dwarves

Summary: Thorin can't figure out Gandalf's motives and Ladi is put in a tight spot.

Thorin left the cavern underneath Rivendell that had been used to read the moon runes on the map. Bilbo and Balin tried to keep up with the King, wondering what might be on his mind. As Thorin went through the Elven halls of Rivendell, he noticed Ladi sitting on a balcony drinking wine with two other elves. One he recognized as the elf who was Lord Elrond’s right hand. The three elves were laughing over their wine glasses and Thorin couldn’t help but stare at Ladi as she laughed, her eyes closed as her smile grew. Her ears were tucked under her braids and for a moment she looked more human than elf.

“She is rather pretty…” Bilbo’s words died in his throat at the look in Thorin’s eyes. “Y-you know..for a, for an elf, that is…”

Balin tried to hide a smile from his king. He had known Thorin for all of Thorin’s life and if there was one thing he had learned, is that Thorin was stubborn even for a dwarf. He could only imagine what the journey would be like once Ladi joined. Just like Gandalf, Balin was convinced the elf would eventually change her mind.

The time in Rivendell passed slowly for the dwarves. They wanted to continue onward to Erebor before Durin’s Day so they would have a chance to find the hidden door. But Gandalf advised them to exercise patience, saying that the moment to sneak away would present itself. And during that time, Thorin tried to find out why Gandalf was so insistent on Ladi joining the Company. They already had their burglar, why did they need an elf?

But trying to get a straight answer out of a Maia was like asking Kili to not be mischievous. An impossible task.

“She is a great warrior with a falcon. She will be a great asset.”

“Elves do not need as much sleep and can stand watch more often.”

“Ladi has traveled over Middle Earth nearly as much as me. She will know the lands and any hidden pitfalls.”

Over and over these excuses came from Gandalf, but none sounded genuine to Thorin. So he decided to bide his time until Gandalf slipped up.

One morning, Gandalf came to the dwarves to inform them that he believed the White Council was notified of the quest. To make sure the dwarves wouldn’t be trapped in Imladris, they were instructed to leave the moment Gandalf was called to meet with Lord Elrond and then await him on the otherside of the Misty Mountains. He didn’t mention one word about Ladi and Thorin wondered for a moment if the wizard finally gave up.

While the White Council met, Thorin gathered his kin and the hobbit before sneaking their way out of the valley. Ladi was sitting very still under a tree near the hidden path when the Company snuck by. Hwind was about to squawk, but Ladi gestured for her companion to remain silent. The sooner the dwarves left, the sooner Rivendell could resume its calm.

She couldn’t understand why Gandalf was so insistent on helping these dwarves. From what she had gathered from Lindir and Erestor the first night, this whole endeavor revolved around Erebor. Which, as far as Ladi knew, was still home to Smaug. The fire-drake from the north who stole the mountain to horde the gold. Which never made sense to Ladi. Why steal what you don’t get value from?

Did Gandalf honestly think thirteen dwarves stood a Valar’s chance against Smaug when a full mountain couldn’t sixty years ago?

The night turned slowly to dawn and Ladi soon heard familiar footsteps that were accompanied by a walking stick. She didn’t even both to move or look up as the figure addressed her.

“It would be a shame if you missed out on this adventure, Ladien.”

“I’ve had my fair shares of adventures since leaving Mithlond, Mithrandir. I do not need any more than what I am already given.”

“Then are you deciding that Imladris will be your permanent home?”

“Do not be ridiculous. You know I haven’t had a home in centuries. I am just grateful Lord Elrond opens his doors to the weary traveler.” To mirror Ladi’s irritation, Hwind puffed up his feathers and squawked at Gandalf.

Gandalf frowned at the hawk. “This could be your chance to meet more of your kin, perhaps find a permanent home.”

Ladi crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is all for me? You’re concerned over the fact that I don’t have a place to call my own?”

Gandalf huffed. “And I thought Thorin was stubborn.”

“He is,” Ladi muttered as the wizard left for the hidden pass. She settled herself against the tree again and debated whether or not if she should take a nap there or actually trek back to her room.

But she barely had a few minutes to privately contemplate her choices before she felt a very powerful presence. Looking up, Ladi’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Lady Galadriel standing a few feet from her.

“M-my Lady,” Ladi stammered as she shot to her feet. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Do not fret, child. I am only here to offer you a piece of advice. If you wish to hear it, of course.”

“Always, Lady Galadriel.” She wanted to give Ladi advice?! She would be a fool to turn it down.

Lady Galadriel’s white dress remained motionless despite the gentle breeze flowing in the valley. “I do not approve of Gandalf’s mission to retake Erebor. It is dangerous and could unleash Smaug upon Middle Earth. However, it would be more possible to move Erebor to a new location than to dissuade the dwarves from their mission.”

Ladi did her best not to smirk or laugh at the Lady’s observations.

“But Mithrandir is almost as stubborn as them. I wish for you to join them, to look out for them.” She paused. “To look out for Mithrandir. Please, Ladien Peredhel.”

Crap, Lady Galadriel was tugging on the heartstrings and Ladi wasn’t strong enough to tell her no. “Of course, Lady Galadriel. I will leave right away.”

“Thank you,” she bowed her head before leaving.

Sighing, Ladi went to her room to pack her things. On her way, she ran into Lindir and Erestor who both expressed their sympathies to Ladi’s new plans. She grabbed her things, attached her short sword to her hips, slung the quiver over her shoulder, and grabbed her bow before sending Hwind off ahead to scout the area.

For two days Ladi followed the trail the Company left behind, following the mountain path until it lead to a stretch of fields in between peaks. Hwind soared overhead, keeping a close eye out for orcs as he had always done before. Soon the landscape gave way to snow-covered mountain tops and then to the narrow paths that went by the rock giants of the Misty Mountains. Ladi wanted to stop at one point, but the scent of goblins was dangerously high so she continued on the narrow path instead of taking refuge inside the mountain. One or two goblins were no problem, but Ladi feared an actual lair was nearby.

So she took the long way around the mountain top to avoid the possibility of coming across a pack of goblins. And just as she began her descent down the otherside of the peak, the Company and Gandalf burst out of a cave. They were clearly trying to catch their breath from a deadly escape. Ladi was about to join them when her elf eyes noticed an odd movement in the distance.

Down below, Thorin was lamenting Gandalf’s decision to bring a hobbit along claiming that Bilbo took this moment to head back to the Shire. But Bilbo appeared at that moment to prove Thorin wrong, saying that he had chosen to stay to help them take their home back. As they spoke, an arrow sang through the air and pierced into the head of a warg.

“Orcs!” Kili cried.

Thorin looked over in time to see Ladi jump from the mountainside, fire another arrow into an orc, before tucking into a summersault when she hit the ground.

“There’s an orc party coming!” Ladi shouted at the Company. “We need to move, now!”

The dwarves, Bilbo, and Gandalf raced after Ladi as she lead them away from the approaching horde. Hwind screeched from above as he scouted the path ahead. But soon, they were overrun by orcs on wargs and Ladi was forced to toss her bow over her head so she could use her short sword. The rest of the dwarves drew their weapons and even Bilbo pulled out his tiny blade. He managed to stab a warg in the head as the rest of the party fought on, only to be confronted by a cliff.

“Into the trees! All of you,” Gandalf instructed.

Ladi stayed on the ground as the dwarves began their climb. She noticed the hobbit wasn’t with them and quickly looked around to see him still trying to pull the blade out of the warg he had just killed. Racing over, she jumped in front of Bilbo and began to slice at the oncoming assault.

“Climb!” She shouted at the hobbit.

Bilbo didn’t get a chance to register what was happening before he began his ascent into the trees. He watched in amazement as she easily leaped into the same tree as if she had flown. Wargs ran past the trees and tried to jump up in an attempt to bite at anyone sitting on a lower branch. Out of the corner of her eye, Ladi noticed Gandalf gently grabbing a butterfly with his staff and whispering to it before it flew off. She never had a chance to ask what he was doing before a giant white warg carrying a large orc crawled over. He began to speak to the dwarves and Ladi looked over in time to catch the look of horror on Thorin’s face. Whoever this orc was, Thorin clearly recognized him.

“It cannot be,” Thorin barely whispered.

The orc shouted a command and his pack raced for the trees. Ladi began to rain arrows down at anything that moved below her until a knife was thrown, cutting her string. The wargs began hitting the trees with great force and she was forced to throw the bow away as now was not the time to attempt a repair. The trees began to fall into each other and the air was filled with the screams of the dwarves, Bilbo, and Ladi. What had she gotten herself into?!

The dwarves and Bilbo leaped into the tree that was holding Gandalf and soon Ladi joined them. Gandalf grabbed a giant pine cone and used his magic to light it on fire before tossing it at the orcs. Soon, he was handing flaming pine cones to everyone to hurl at the enemies, lighting up the woodland around them. But it didn’t stop the attack and before Ladi could register what was happening, their tree was knocked over and had the entire party hanging over a cliff.

Instead of remaining calm for his people, Thorin looked at the lead orc and got to his feet. Ladi watched in horror as he began to rush at the orc horde. Was this dwarf crazy?!

She pulled herself up onto the log and raced after Thorin, not even stopping to think about what she was doing. The orc met Thorin head-on and swung his weapon, knocking the king down. Hwind came down out of the night sky and attacked the orcs face as Ladi reached the dwarf.

“Wake up!” Ladi shouted over the painful cries of the orc. “You need to get up!”

Ladi was so focused on trying to get Thorin up, she didn’t notice a second orc sneaking up behind her. Until she heard a cry of rage from the tiny hobbit who tackled the orc to the ground. Ladi looked up to see the hobbit with his back to her and Thorin, swinging the sword in front of him as a warning. Ladi kept trying to get Thorin to rise to his feet as the tiny hobbit stood guard.

Oh Valar, what had she agreed to?

But just when hope seemed lost, a cry rang out as the remaining dwarves attacked to protect their king. Gandalf raced up to Ladi, worry on his face.

“His was hit pretty hard, Mithrandir. I can’t get him up.”

Gandalf was surprised to see the worry in the elf’s eyes. Perhaps his gamble would pay off after all. “Do not worry, my dear. I have called for help.”

“Who would help against orcs?”

As if on cue, there was a loud screech from the void. Louder than anything Hwind could produce. Ladi looked up in time to see the Great Eagles approaching. One by one, each eagle took one or two dwarves with them, with Gandalf climbing onto the back of one. Ladi watched Thorin be scooped up before she agreed to mount a ride as well. Above her, Hwind glided in the wind as he followed his larger brethren. Ladi had no idea where they were being taken to, but she knew it had to be far better than where they just left.

And when they landed, Gandalf and Thorin would have plenty to explain.

Chapter 3

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@marvelfansworld

@that-chick212

@keetnerj01

Kings & Queens

@harper-emory-writes​

@imagine-the-fanfics

@of-stars-and-pens

@errruvande​

@themerriweathermage​

[coralstories]

An Unexpected Arrival: Chapter Eight

Word count: 2337

It’s another “main character shows up in Mirkwood and has to figure out how to survive”, but this time with my OC Aurelia Castillo and she freaks out first. Have fun laughing at her!

A/N: the bolded text is a different language, text in italics are thoughts

Warnings: mentions of racism (not relevant to today’s topics, I wrote this a while ago). Fighting scenes!

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they saw Kili playing with his runestone. Aurelia held her breath; it felt like deja vu, although she knew it was not a dream she remembered this scene from. She peeked around Tauriel’s slim form with a smile on her face. Kili noticed her behind the tall, beautiful elleth. 

“Who is this? You keep humans as pets?” Kili said in jest. 

Aurelia gave him a stern look. 

“I’m no one’s pet,” she said. “Just curious. I’ve never seen a dwarf in person before.”

She stepped around Tauriel and offered Kili her hand through the bars.

“I’m Aurelia. Most people call me Lia.”

Kili stared at her hand as if it were a viper. Aurelia sighed.

“Where I come from when people first meet they shake hands,” Aurelia said.

“Oh, of course,” the young dwarf prince said.

He took Aurelia’s small hand in his large one and introduced himself. She felt the calluses on his palm that were evidence of his familiarity with weapons. What she told him about introductions was absolutely true. But, she had another motivation for shaking hands with the dwarf. She was checking for injuries. Dwarves were hardy, though, and she was not surprised when she sensed only small bruises and cuts. She moved on to the dwarf in the next cell and repeated the introduction, leaving Kili and Tauriel. They talked quietly amongst themselves. Finally, she reached Thorin’s cell. When she offered her hand, Thorin ignored it. 

“You do not seem like a normal elf,” he said. 

“And you do not seem like a normal dwarf,” Aurelia replied. 

Before Thorin could utter a retort, Aurelia withdrew her hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. That drew Thorin’s attention to her ears, which he realized were rounded, very unlike an elf’s. 

“You’re human?” Thorin exclaimed. 

Aurelia nodded. “Very much so.”

She studied him as he studied her. 

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked her. 

“I wanted to meet you,” Aurelia said honestly. 

“Hm. Why do I feel like there is more?” Thorin took hold of the bars and leaned closer. “Did Thranduil send you to spy on us? Did the lying weasel kidnap you to Mirkwood?”

“I was kidnapped, but not by Thranduil,” Aurelia said. An idea occurred to her. “Maybe Gandalf had something to do with it....”

“The meddling wizard?” Thorin asked, surprised. “Do you know him?”

Aurelia shook her head. “Only through reputation. We’ve never met. But isn’t he supposed to be with you? Where is he? If he shows surprise at my presence then maybe he didn’t have anything to do with it after all.”

Aurelia knew full well he had left them at the border of the forest, but she needed an in. 

“Bah!” Thorin spat. “We are on our own now.”

Aurelia glanced at Tauriel as the runestone clattered beneath her boot. She beckoned to Thorin. His gaze was suspicious as he leaned forward again, and Aurelia put her lips close to his ear. 

“I count twelve among your company,” she said in a low voice. “I heard there were supposed to be thirteen.”

Thorin jerked back in surprise. 

“He’s a hobbit, right?” Aurelia groaned. “I wish I’d been kidnapped to the Shire instead. It seems much more peaceful and beautiful.”

“Perhaps, if you help us escape, we can take you there,” Thorin said. “And you can tell me how you know all this.”

Aurelia looked him up and down. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You’ve been? You know the way?”

“Yes, I have been there once,” Thorin responded. “But at the end of our journey we’ll have to send our hobbit home, won’t we? You could go with him.”

“That sounds amazing!” Aurelia said. 

She jumped as she remembered something. Legolas had been watching Tauriel at this point. Aurelia looked around and spotted him a level above. He looked too focused on Tauriel and Kili’s conversation to notice her and the dwarf king talking. Thorin followed her gaze and saw what had caught her attention. 

“That’s the spoiled elf-brat that captured us,” he muttered. 

Aurelia giggled. “‘Spoiled elf-brat’?” she echoed. 

“Do you not agree?” 

“No! He's a little... uptight sometimes, but you know, he's got a lot going on,” Aurelia said, in a conspiratorial tone. “He’s extremely attractive, though.”

Thorin made a face. Aurelia held her hand out, palm towards Thorin.

“Don’t worry, you’re plenty attractive yourself,” she said. 

Thorin watched her for a moment, trying to determine if she was genuine or not. 

“You’re almost exactly like I pictured you,” Aurelia said, her voice still low. “I do hope Thranduil doesn’t keep you here for long, I—,”

“Aurelia,” said a male voice. 

Aurelia looked up to her left and saw Emlithor, watching the two of them with a furrowed brow and tilted head. He glanced over to Tauriel and Kili, and his curious frown deepened. 

“Ben!” Aurelia exclaimed. “Have you met the newbies? Thorin here is their leader.”

“I know you cannot know this, but we elves do not get along with dwarves,” Emlithor said. 

“Why not? They seem like a nice bunch.”

Emlithor stepped forward and took Aurelia’s arm. He continued speaking as he led her away. 

“Dwarves are stubborn and greedy. They are not to be trusted,” he explained. 

“Surely not all of them. That’s not a nice thing to say.”

“I am sure. We have never liked dwarves for this reason. They are all—,”

Aurelia jerked her arm away and stepped back. When Emlithor looked at her, he saw that she was angry. 

“Honey, look,” she began. “I don’t know about what sort of feud is going on here, but don’t ever speak like that around me again. That’s called racism. We don’t have dwarves or elves where I come from. We have a group of humans who don’t like people like me just because we have a different culture and darker skin. When you generalize the traits of a few in a group to all of the group, that’s how wars start. So, when you tell me ‘all dwarves are nasty creatures’ and this dwarf tells me ‘elves are capricious liars’, I don’t like it. It makes me feel like you would say the same about me if you came from where I am from. You ever say anything like that around me again, I’m walking away and I’m afraid we can’t be friends anymore. Got it?”

Emlithor stared at her for a moment, slightly alarmed. Aurelia turned to Thorin. 

“And you,” she said. “I don’t know you and we’re not friends, so I know I have no right to lecture you, but I hope you take my words to heart, too. Tauriel, I’m ready to leave when you are.”

She felt several pairs of eyes on her before Tauriel finally stood up. Aurelia made her way to Tauriel’s side and they left together to rejoin the festivities upstairs. Emlithor watched them go with a concerned expression. A whistle sounded from one of the cells. 

“That one’s got some fire in her,” Fíli said. “I think I like her.”

Emlithor glared at the dwarf as he walked past his cell, making his way to his prince and commander. Once they were out of sight of the cells, Legolas stopped Emlithor with one hand on his shoulder.

“Keep an eye on them,” Legolas said. 

“I’m supposed to be helping Lúthon with the new shipment from Laketown,” Emlithor said hesitantly. 

“After that, then. I am worried about what they’ll say to Aurelia. She seems impressionable.”

Emlithor would have protested that she was in fact very strong-willed, but he said nothing. He too was worried about another interaction between her and the dwarves. He nodded and brought his fist to his chest in a salute. Legolas returned his salute, then went upstairs.

In her room, Aurelia was making a small bundle of clothes and tools to take with her. She knew that soon, Bilbo would lead the dwarves down to the cellar, and then they would be lost to her. She had to get there before the elves started their pursuit. She hid the pack under a cloak and dashed down to the cellar. She spared a moment to tend to the unconscious Emlithor and Lúthon, setting a cushion under their cheeks. When she turned the corner, all the barrels were gone, but Bilbo was there, staring at the floor looking lost. Suddenly, there were shouts. Bilbo whirled around and caught sight of Aurelia, who laughed out of nervousness. Aurelia slapped a hand over her mouth, then rushed over to Bilbo. 

“We’ve got to go,” she said. “They’re coming.”

She took Bilbo’s hand and led him to the spot where she knew the floor would start to tip, creating an opening. It opened quite quickly with their combined weight, and they fell through. Bilbo let out a small yell of fright. The plank was almost closed before the elves came in. They fell into the water together, though Aurelia sank deeper than Bilbo. He was pulled to the edge of one of the barrels quickly. Aurelia held her breath and stayed underwater until she could no longer see his little bare feet. She broke the surface and took a deep breath, then made her way to a pathway that followed the stream. 

She kept to the shadows and made her way outside. She took a route that she was half sure would lead to where she needed to go and would be orc-free (she had almost forgotten that the orcs would appear). She hoped that she would be able to meet the dwarves where they stopped to rest. She never strayed far enough from the river that she could not hear it. The sounds of battle drifted from the river as well. She flinched with every roar of an orc and every scream of a dwarf. She recalled how she had laughed during this scene of the movie. It was comical how Bombur had bounced around in the barrel. Now, she felt nothing but fear as she ran through the woods now, fear for herself and the dwarves and her elf friends. 

Suddenly, she heard a growl to her right. She dropped into a crouch and then froze, only daring to move her eyes. She saw an orc that had almost crossed the path in front of her; it seemed he was running to join the battle. He came nearer to her, but it looked like he would still pass her by. Then, when the orc was directly in front of her, he slowed and sniffed the air. Aurelia slowly and quietly reached around into her pack and withdrew a dagger. The orc’s breathing became heavier and he turned to face her, shrieking. Aurelia stood up, drew her arm back, then brought her arm down, and threw the dagger. It hit the orc in his still open mouth, and he fell to the ground choking. Aurelia walked over to the orc and stepped on his wrist as he reached for his weapon. She withdrew her dagger from his mouth. He screamed at her, blood spurting up from the hole in his mouth. Aurelia brought the dagger back down in his throat this time. 

“Shut up, would you?” Aurelia snapped. 

And finally, the orc was quiet. Aurelia kept running, not bothering to put her dagger away. Aurelia reached a rocky shore. She recognized it as the spot where the dwarves stopped before being picked up by Bard. She stopped, staring at the calm water, amazed she had actually made it. She didn’t see the orc behind her or hear him bring his bow up to full draw. 

She did, however, feel the arrow embed itself in her shoulder. She screamed out a groan and stumbled forward. She kept her footing and whirled around to face the culprit. The orc roared at her. Aurelia, taking the orc completely by surprise, charged him. He scrambled to bring his bow up again but fired a clumsy shot when Aurelia was a yard away. She ducked and dodged it, then slashed at the orc’s bow, knocking the next arrow out of his grip. She pressed forward and stabbed him in the neck, holding onto his armor with her other hand. She withdrew the dagger and stabbed the orc again in the eye. He fell to one knee, and she stabbed him again in the other eye, just for good measure. The orc collapsed on his side. Aurelia jumped away from him, and stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. She swayed on the spot, then groaned as her right shoulder throbbed. She glanced at the orc’s other arrows and saw that, amazingly, the tips were not barbed. She made her way to the water’s edge and cleaned her blade. Then, she reached back with her left hand and gripped the arrow sticking out of her shoulder. She sobbed as the pain blossomed and hunched over, her hair falling into the water. 

You can do this, ichpocatl, the feathered serpent hissed. It is merely a flesh wound. You are lucky. This arrow was not one of the poisoned ones. 

Help me, Aurelia asked silently. 

She tightened her grip on the arrow and pulled it out, as straight as she could manage at this angle. She screamed in pain, and it echoed off of the rocks around her. Her back arched as she felt the muscle and tissue start to knit itself back together. She fell on her side, and the last thing she saw was rock before her vision darkened. Somehow, she had the mind to reach for her dagger before she completely passed out. 

I will take care of you, ichpocatl. Rest, and you will heal.

[avantegarda]

Guess Who’s Coming to Mordor

(Another installment of my “Maglor Joins the Fellowship” Au

Listen, @most-definitely-human, @cherepashkadrabbles, @semperaeternumque, @mywoesaregranular, @whatstolkienherepeeps, @fat-flubber-seal ,and everyone else who was foolish enough to encourage me…I don’t know what you were expecting other than the fic equivalent of an episode of Saturday Night Live, but that’s what you’re getting.

–

First impressions were clearly unreliable; Elrond had originally seemed like a very sensible sort of person, and yet Frodo was beginning to suspect the lord of Rivendell was quite mad. Of course it made sense for an Elf to come along on the quest—it was only fair, after all—but was it necessary for Elrond to choose this one? Surely Glorfindel, or that prince from Mirkwood, or anyone really, would have been a better choice than the quiet dark-haired man Elrond had introduced, inexplicably, as his father.

Father, indeed. Frodo knew his history as well as anyone, and he recognized the name Maglor straightaway. 

“I know who you are, you know,” Frodo told him, the first time they were alone together. It was the night before the company was scheduled to leave, and Frodo felt it was high time he got everything out in the open.

“Well, that’s hardly surprising, considering we were just introduced,” Maglor replied. Even when speaking quietly, his voice had an otherworldly quality Frodo found distinctly unsettling. “I’d go so far as to say I know who you are as well.”

“No, I mean I know who you are. Perhaps you think we don’t learn history in the Shire, but Bilbo’s told me all about the First Age, and I know exactly what you and your family did. Everything.”

“Ah.” Maglor’s expression was unreadable. “Then perhaps you also know that I have spent the last two ages punishing myself for my family’s deeds.”

“By wandering about on the beach and moping?”

“That, and other things as well. Looking after orphans, fighting a few orcs—I haven’t been entirely idle, you know.”

“That’s as may be,” Frodo said skeptically. “But I’d still like to know why you agreed to come on this mission. I know you and Lord Elrond are…family, but it can’t be just as a favor to him. And I find it hard to believe your motives are completely altruistic.”

Maglor leaned back in his chair, tapping his long, elegant fingers together. “The truth, then?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“The truth, Mr. Baggins, is that I am tired.”

Frodo blinked. “Tired?”

“Indeed. Quite unfathomably exhausted. I’ve spent the last 6,000 years wandering from place to place, never resting, never feeling that I am doing enough to make up for my past. This quest we are going on? This may be my last chance to do something genuinely good.” For a moment, he looked as though he was about to cry. “The truth is, Mr. Baggins, this may be my last chance to find a way home.”

Oddly, Frodo felt a spark of sympathy for this strange creature, separated from his home and family since before the sun and moon had first risen. What would it be like to be away from the Shire for that long? 

Well, he was soon to find out, he supposed.

“I understand that,” he said at last. “But how do I know I can trust you, around something as dangerous as…as what I am carrying?”

Maglor smiled, the first time Frodo had seen him do so. It was a surprisingly nice, though sad, smile. “Mr. Baggins, I threw one of the most valuable objects ever created into the ocean. I think I can manage to help you throw Sauron’s bloody trinket into a mountain.”

–

After much fuss and annoyance, Aragorn and Gimli had been persuaded to hand over their weapons before entering King Theoden’s presence. Maglor, standing behind them, looked nearly as reluctant as his companions had.

“You too, Master Elf,” the guard said. “Disarm yourself, please.”

Obediently, Maglor unhooked his sword belt, tossing it and his twin blades on the table. “There you are. Disarmed.”

“I said all your weapons, sir,” ordered the guard. “Do you think I’m blind?”

With a sigh that sounded like a wave crashing on the shore, Maglor pulled several small knives out of the top of his boots and handed them over. The guard nodded.

“Thank you, sir. Now…”

“Hold on, just a moment. I’m not quite done.” Digging about in his pack, his pockets, and his sleeves, Maglor extracted two small silver whistles, several hair-thin harp strings, something that appeared to be a tuning fork, and an unidentifiable instrument shaped like an hourglass, which he passed to the bewildered guard. “You did say all my weapons.”

“Sir, most of these are musical instruments,” the guard said, frowning. “They are not weapons.”

Maglor looked mildly offended. “Well, not with that attitude.”

–

“My stars,” Maglor said quietly. “Is that what I think it is?”

“A palantir, yes,” said Gandalf, carefully inspecting the dark stone that Wormtongue had thrown out the window. “One of the seven lost seeing-stones, capable of…”

“Yes, yes, Mithrandir, I know perfectly well what a palantir is,” Maglor interrupted. “They’re only a bloody family heirloom. Damned useful, too, when your family is spread out over half the continent and letters take about a year to be delivered. I always did wonder what became of the old things.”

“So it is true,” Gandalf said in awe. “The palantiri were created by Feanor.”

Maglor snorted. “Of course they were. Who else do you think could have had the skill and motivation to make them? Father had seven children to keep track of, you know, and this was really the only sensible way to do it. May I?” He held out a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation Gandalf gave him the stone.

“So this belonged to one of your brothers?” Pippin asked eagerly. “Which one was it?”

“That is just what I am trying to find out.” Maglor turned the stone in his hands and sang a few quick words in an ancient dialect of Quenya (and of those assembled, only Gandalf was able to recognize that they meant “turn on, you dratted thing”). For a moment nothing happened at all, before the stone lit up with a crimson glow and emitted a vaguely exasperated-sounding noise. Maglor smiled with satisfaction as it faded back to black.

“Ah, just as I thought. This one was Caranthir’s,” he said. “He’s been gone for two ages and his palantir is still annoyed about people calling him. And, where is it…ah, just there, you see that crack?” He indicated a hairline fissure barely visible in the stone’s dark surface. “That right there is from when I was visiting Caranthir and we quarrelled, and he threw this at me. Fortunately I ducked out of the way, but I thought it was going to bring down the fortress when it hit the wall. It’s funny, you know, Father created these things to be indestructible but he really didn’t bank on the force of Caranthir’s temper.”

Pippin shook his head. “It’s funny, you know, when Frodo and Bilbo are going on about the First Age one tends to imagine everyone being very solemn and dignified. Not going about chucking things at their brothers.”

Maglor smiled and patted Pippin on the head rather condescendingly. “Clearly, Mr. Took, you have been learning the wrong kind of history.”

–

Frodo’s worries that he would have no one other than Bilbo and Elrond to talk to on the long voyage to Valinor were assuaged as he and the others made their way onto the upper deck and saw who was already there.

“You!” Frodo exclaimed.

“You!” Maglor replied, smiling broadly and looking about a millennium younger (was it possible, Frodo wondered, for Elves to age in reverse?). “You’ll be coming along then, will you? I must say, I am rather on the fence about this journey. The last time I was on a ship was a thoroughly unpleasant experience, but then those were…unusual circumstances. I don’t expect we’ll have nearly as much trouble this time.”

“If we do have any trouble, I am throwing you overboard immediately,” Cirdan grumbled. “Elrond, are you quite certain you have thought this through?”

“Absolutely,” Elrond said firmly. “And if the Valar have any issues with my father returning home after everything he’s helped us accomplish, they can have it out with me.”

Elrond and Cirdan ushered Bilbo down to his cabin, while Frodo remained on the deck, taking an awkward seat beside Maglor. The breeze whipped around them as the ship began to move away from shore, and Frodo suddenly found himself unaccountably nervous.

“Maglor,” he said. “What is Valinor like?”

“Well, you know, I haven’t been there in some time,” Maglor said thoughtfully. “But from what I recall, it is a thoroughly fine place. Pleasant weather, good food, kind people. You and your uncle will be given a hero’s welcome, I can almost guarantee.”

“And you? What kind of welcome will you get?”

“I rather imagine there will be a long line of people waiting to slap me! But I can’t say I mind that so very much. I don’t particularly care what sort of welcome the general public gives me, as long as I can see my family again.” His smile faded slightly as the reality of their destination seemed to sink in. “Frodo, do you think…do you think it will have been enough? Do I have any chance at all of being forgiven?”

“Oh, honestly, Maglor,” Frodo said, rolling his eyes. “You helped lead the armies of Gondor and Rohan against Sauron, and you certainly saved my neck a time or two. If your family isn’t inclined to forgive you, I’ll have words with them myself.”

“You Hobbits,” Maglor laughed. “You certainly are fiercer than your appearance suggests. But there is one person I don’t think you’ll be able to defend me from.”

“Who’s that?”

“My mother.” Maglor shook his head, pushing a few errant curls off his forehead. “She’s going to kill me for being gone so long.”

[aroseandquill]

Adventures in Middle-earth pt.9

You have reached your final adventure.

Contents Page

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,386 Warnings: fluff, feels, aaaaaaaa!!!!! I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE!

You approached Thorin with nerve in your step, you somehow felt that although the old Thorin was back, this other Thorin may still be lurking and waiting to rear his ugly head again. Before you could even catch a breath to begin preparing yourself with talking to Thorin he turned to face you with a sharp look in his eye which unnerved you. He stepped towards you with concern and you felt uneasy, your stomach tightened as you lost eye contact and immediately looked at the floor, like a child being told off by a teacher. You took a deep breath as if you were going to say something but nothing came out, instead, Thorin took your arm gently and took you to a corner of the room where the rest of the company would not hear.

"I can not apologise enough for what I have done to you." He began in a deep, sincere voice that fluttered through your body like butterflies. "You have supported me and my kin the whole time you've been with us with no reason to and I have done nothing but neglected that. I only wish I could regain your trust. I understand that you didn't mean to come here," he took one of your hands, "I'm glad we found you back when we did, I only wish it were sooner." he smiled a small but genuinely sweet smile, "My people will remember your name, even when you have returned to your own world-" you let out a small pant of laughter as you felt your cheeks burn up yet again, "Don't you see?" you smiled but with a hint of sadness in your eyes, "I don't want to just be remembered by them." Thorin looked confused at you, almost as if he was offended, "I don't want to go back." his eyes were still focussed on yours as he swallowed and clenched his jaw, he took a few short breaths before speaking again.

"Why wouldn't you go back? That is your home. That's where you belong." you smiled yet again, "I understand what it must be like for you. You've spent so long trying to come back home but your home was taken from you. It wasn't your choice. In my world I felt lost, I was always looking for something more, something that could be. When I tumbled into Middle-earth and found 'The Company of Thorin Oakenshield' I felt like I had purpose. Of course I missed my home but I found a new one." you paused as you breathed, "In you." his expression suddenly softened as he listened to your words one by one and made sense of them. His grip on your hand got tighter as he pulled you closer to his body, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe. His embrace soothed your anxiety, you didn't want to let go of him but you knew you only had limited time before you had to go out and fight. His scent filled your nose and mind with a familiarity, he pulled you back to look at you again and you felt weak to his touch. He slowly moved his head closer to yours and pressed his forehead against yours, "Amrâlimê." he whispered, your brow creased but before you could ask any questions you felt the roughness of his beard tickle your chin and suddenly the smooth contact of his lips touching yours. He kissed you so sweetly, gently and it was so true. After this you didn't have to ask him what he said because he showed you. Your heart was leaping around your body, you could feel your heart beat down to your toes, it was such an intense moment that you shared with Thorin, one you replayed in your head time and time again up until the bell crashed through the rampart.

"The dwarves! They're rallying!" Bilbo sounded so excited, "They're rallying to their king!" Gandalf proudly stated,

The battle was immense, like nothing you had ever dreamed of. You had seen battles in your favourite movies but you had never thought they would be this messy and smell so bad. You didn't think you'd be covered in so much blood. You took out the daggers that you found in the armory prior to the battle, Thorin had held your hands so sweetly as he looked into your eyes and prayed you didn't have to be there. "We will be home soon, this is part of the adventure!" that's all you played in your mind as you slashed an orc's throat and stabbed one in the eye, you didn't know you had this amount of skill but apparently it came naturally when you were near Thorin. Your desire to protect him was fierce and made you even more determined to kill as many of these wretched orcs as you can. You didn't care that your beautiful elven bodice was now blood stained, you just had to protect Thorin. You knew he could fend for himself but if anything happened to him you would never forgive yourself. Ever. He knew that you loved him but if that wasn't enough, watching him go through this in battle just destroyed you entirely. You hated watching him get hit or even almost get sliced open, the thought of it poisoned you. You felt sick at the very thought of it. But that thought motivated you, it motivated you to keep going, to keep protecting him.

Every slash, every stab, every shot you took was for him. For Thorin. Every minute you saw blood gushing from another orc and a head falling off. Dain was talking to Thorin in the battle, you kept an eye on Thorin always. Even though you kept reminding yourself that he could look after himself, you couldn't help it. You saw Thorin mount a goat and you stopped mid fight to see him looking at you. You ducked under one major swing of an orc's axe then began to run in his direction, where the heck was he going? You watched Kili, Fili, Dwalin and Balin all mount up as they began to head out. Like hell are they leaving you here. You saw one more goat and decided to mount up. You had never ridden an animal before, not even a horse, you had no experience but how hard can it be? In truth, yes, it was difficult but by the time you had a dagger out and sliced about 12 orcs throats simultaneously you got the hang of it.

You saw Thorin, Dwalin, Fili and Kili headed up a hill where you were pretty sure Azog was... That's where he was signalling from, surely not? Cutting the head off of the snake and the body will wither. Clever. Or is it?

By the time you managed to ride your goat up to the top of the hill you saw Bilbo there too, how the? How did Bilbo get up there? "THORIN!" You yelled in a blood curdling tone, "What are you doing here?! Go back! It's not safe!" his voice was raspy, usually, you would have been weak in the knees at his voice but this was another matter.

You heard a drum beating. "Thorin?" you whispered in a questioning tone, hoping everything was okay. He held your hand as he looked back at the tower before you. You squeezed his hand and with your other hand held onto his arm and leaned your head against his shoulder, he turned to cradle you before something approached at the top of the tower. Azog. And Fili. No. It can't be.

You had never seen so much hurt in Thorin's eyes. He'd always looked like he'd been through a lot but you had never seen him look so torn, his nephew, his kin. You couldn't believe that Fili was dead. Your friend. You had no energy to cry you just stood there and felt drowned. Thorin's hand gripped yours so tight it was almost unbearable. Tears were in his eyes, you couldn't deal with this, watching him like this destroyed you. You felt his pain as if it was your own and you wanted to help him, but now wasn't the time. You ran, ran to kill. You wanted to kill so much orc scum that your hands would feel numb from the constant friction your daggers or bow would take. "Stay with Dwalin, that is an order!" Thorin commanded you, he had never spoken to you so sadly before. So you stuck with Dwalin as you sliced and shot at so many oncoming orcs. You were tired but you didn't realise just how tired you were until you killed the last mercenary. Bilbo had fallen down, you checked to make sure he was okay, he was just unconscious but he was fine. You thought you had killed the last mercenary when a whole new wave of orcs came flooding over the hill and started attacking from all sides. "Lass, stay with me!" Dwalin was so protective over you, it was nice, you could stand back and shoot at the orcs from behind him whilst he was up close and personal.

One orc managed to get close to you and you whipped out your daggers like a badass, you flicked them out and crossed your arm over the other as you ripped them apart and tore into the orc's throat allowing blood to squirt all over you, this wasn't a clean business by any stretch of the imagination. You had blood in your hair, on your face, some of which was your own but that didn't matter, you were just surprised you managed to survive this long. You just wanted to make sure Thorin was okay, but how could you? You didn't even know where he was. You slashed every orc as if they were attacking Thorin, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins and even though you were tired you kept going, you kept going for Thorin. You couldn't wait to hold him when this was all done. You just wanted to be able to make him feel better. Perhaps it was selfish of you to think that you wanted him all to yourself but you couldn't help but feel protective. All you wanted was his happiness and safety.

You found Bilbo again, he was still out cold, you held him close and tried to wake him up, you checked him over to make sure he wasn't injured, maybe a concussion but nothing too serious. His eyes opened slowly and he saw you smiling down at him, "The eagles..." he whispered as he looked into the sky with a smile on his face, "the Eagles are coming." "I need to find Thorin, Bilbo, you'll be safe here, okay?" "Okay." he closed his eyes again, Now, to find Thorin. Your heart was pounding. Where could he be? What if he fell? What if Azog got to him? No. You have to think positive. You have to think of his smile. You ran down some ruined stairs and found yourself standing on a frozen waterfall. Your eyes were drawn to a lifeless body on the ice. Azog? Thorin killed him! You couldn't believe it, he was okay- wait... You ran over to another body to make sure it wasn't who you thought it was. It was. You cradled his head in your arms and felt the blood and sweat soaked forehead of Thorin Oakenshield. No.. "Thorin?" you squeezed his hand slightly, "Thorin!" you looked over his body to check for wounds when your gaze was drawn to a large hole in his chest. You realised you were kneeling in his blood. "No! Not now! Thorin! Please!" his eyes flickered and you felt hopeful. "You're alive!" he smiled up at you before coughing and wheezing as he did so, "Yes, how could I not be?" you sobbed silently, "You taught me everything I know, Thorin." "Don't cry," a tear of his own left his eye, "this is part of the adventure.." "I don't!- You promised.. Don't, Thorin, please!" his eyes flickered again, "No! Thorin! Look, the Eagles are here, Thorin, the eagles!" you pressed your forehead against his and broke into tears whilst holding him tightly, "this was supposed to be our great adventure, Thorin, please!" "The greatest adventure.." he choked on his own breath, "was meeting you, amrâlimê." "Thorin, no, don't leave me," you pressed your lips against his and tried to revive any life he had left in him, "don't go where I can't follow.." you began to weep, desperately clinging onto his lifeless body. You gently shook his shoulders to jolt something into his body but nothing came of it. He had gone.

As you spent what felt like an eternity sat on your knees in front of Thorin's body, you hardly noticed there was an audience gathering around you. Your heart felt like a pin cushion. Hot tears streamed down your face burning the surface of your skin but you did not cry out, you couldn't feel anything else within your body at this point. Your heavy lungs released the agonising breath that you had been holding, disguising the longing you had to scream out. You watched as your tears fell into the puddle of Thorin's blood, the image of the water dancing within the blood reminded you of one night in Laketown when Thorin asked you to dance, your chest ached as you remembered refusing on account of you not being able to dance. Watching the tears dance within his blood made you feel as if this was the last ounce of life he had left and he used it to have that dance that he wanted. You held on to his hand and refused to let go, no matter how many times you told yourself that you couldn't just stay, you couldn't bear to leave his side.

You knew he had gone but you didn't want to accept it as you held his still warm hand with your fingers intertwined within his. His face did not look tense any more, his expression was soft and he just looked as if he was sleeping, peacefully. That was how you chose to remember Thorin Oakenshield.